English Partners
by AfewSentencesShortOfaParagraph
Summary: This is the episode Better Off Alone in Eli's point of view.Enjoy! And if you haven't read it yet, and you like this story, check out First Kiss.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Degrassi, or any of the characters. It's a new story, so I figured I had best include the disclaimer. **

**Anyway, popular demand requested that I continue doing episodes in Eli's POV. Which is fine with me; I love writing them. However, to those of you who were interested in me doing Clare's point of view that will still probably happen. It'll just happen after I've finished with Eli. **

**For now, here is the first half of Better off Alone- Part 1. Enjoy! =) : **

The piercing beep of my alarm jolted me awake. I slammed on my alarm clock to shut it up, and hurled myself out of bed.

I had only been going to Degrassi for a week, after transferring from a school on the other side of town, and it already felt monotonous- same old curriculum, some kinds of snotty people, same annoying teachers. Of course, I'll admit, my attitude wasn't exactly helping things, but what did they expect? That I would just wake up one day, happy again at last?

I had finally convinced my parents to let me transfer to a new school because I was fed up with the stares and the whispers. Everywhere I went the phrase '_His girlfriend just died_,' seemed to follow. The only upside to everyone walking on eggshells around me, or just avoiding me all together, was that bullies stopped ragging on me. I was left alone to sulk. The only problem was I could sulk, but I could never actually begin to move on while I was left walking down the halls that Julia and I used to bear together. There wasn't a single place in that school that didn't remind me of Julia. My parents wanted me to stick it out till graduation, not really keen on the idea of me switching schools in the middle of my High School career. I can be rather persuasive when I put my mind to it though, so I got that revised to me finishing up my sophomore year at the old school, and then I would start as a junior at Degrassi. Lucky me.

I brushed my teeth, didn't bother to do anything with my hair, and slipped on some of my usual all black attire. I took a good look around my room and shook my head. The truth was if I didn't clean this place up I might never move on; there were just too many reminders all stashed together in the confined space. But I never could clean it. I hated my room.

I slammed the door closed; making sure the padlock was secure, and headed into the kitchen. My mom was up, waiting for my dad to arrive home. He was a disk jockey for one of the local stations, and he had the night, or morning depending on how you looked at it, shift.

"Morning, Sweetie," my mom said smiling at me as I grabbed a granola bar out of the pantry. "You ready for school?"

"I'm awake, am I not?" I replied grouchily. My mom was used to my cynical behavior by now and just nodded. I wolfed down the granola bar, hastily shoved some food into a brown paper bag for lunch, and headed out the door without saying goodbye. I knew my mom was trying to give me what I needed, but she usually ended up suffocating me instead. She meant well, and I loved her, but I didn't like talking to her much these days. The less interaction, the better was a general rule I lived by.

I climbed into Morty, my hearse, and headed for school. My first period class was history, which tended to put me to sleep when I didn't have to listen to it early in the morning. I had a habit of spacing out during that class, trying my best not to think of anything in particular as I dutifully took notes.

Second period was much more intriguing. I had always loved English and literature, and I found writing the only way I could aptly express myself when it came to just about anything. Words were powerful things, and I certainly had no problem using them to express my opinion on any topic.

Also, the only person at this school who had been able to pique my interest so far sat behind me. Her name, I had learned, was Clare. I met her my second day here at Degrassi. The first thing to catch my eye about her was her bright, ice-blue eyes that were extremely expressive. Only thing was, during our first meeting, she had seemed flustered and embarrassed. I soon found out that, thankfully, she had no problems speaking up and expressing her opinions because she often did in class. I liked that.

That morning before the bell rang I sat at my desk coloring my nails black with a marker when Ms. Dawes, the teacher, whooshed into the room with our last assignment in her hands. She started to pass them out as the bell rang. "Some of the greatest works of all times: letters," Ms. Dawes started. I smelled a new assignment coming on. "They reveal the hearts and souls of world leaders, of great artists, and now…of you." I smirked to myself, called it.

"Ms. Dawes," I heard Clare speak up behind me. She sounded stressed, and more than a little disappointed. "There must be some sort of mistake," she continued, "I've never gotten a 'C'. How did this happen?"

I rolled my eyes. So she was one of those students. I looked down at my own paper. The assignment was to pick a controversial topic, and then state your opinion on it. It was a fairly easy paper to write, and I had chosen Capital punishment as my topic. Apparently, it had earned me an 'A-'. Not bad, but also not my best.

"Well," Ms. Dawes began, "your early assignments were divine, but recently your writing has gotten distant. Impersonal." Ms. Dawes sounded chagrined; like she was upset Clare had turned in 'C' work. I wondered what her papers were usually like.

There was a pause as Clare absorbed this news. "I used complex sentence structure and advanced vocabulary," she offered stubbornly. I raised my eyebrow. Was she kidding with this; the grade you got was the grade you earned. There really wasn't any sense in arguing about it, and frankly Clare was starting to sound like a bit of a whiney brat. Then again, maybe I was just irritable, so I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Yes," Ms. Dawes conceded, "but your assignment didn't tell me anything about who you are; what you want. You can't hide behind vampire fiction forever."

I snorted. She was a vampire fan, eh? I didn't peg her for one of those girls.

"I'm not hiding," Clare said, defending herself.

"Then prove it," Ms. Dawes challenged, and then she gestured to me, and I immediately looked up, confused, "to your writing partner."

I sat there in incredulous shock for a second. "Me?" I questioned, raising my eyebrows. What exactly did this partner thing entail? I was kind of a solo guy; Ms. Dawes had to be kidding. On the other hand, I was curious about Clare's writing…not to mention more than a little curious about Clare herself.

"Yeah, you." Ms. Dawes declared. "You write well, but you're a little wordy." I looked down at my paper; 'a little wordy' wasn't doing to bad for me so far. "You and Clare will be editing each other's work this semester." Ms. Dawes seemed very pleased with this arrangement.

"Great," Clare wasn't even attempting to keep the disinterest out of her voice, "that'll be fun." I smirked, and let out a small laugh. I liked this girl; she had a good sense of humor. Besides, contrary to Clare's apathy this might be fun. Or, at the very least, it could be.

"I think we have a very special pairing on our hands, people!" Ms. Dawes gasped, gaining enthusiasm, "Like Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes."

Before I could stop it, my face slipped into a look of confusion- Ms. Dawes did know that pairing didn't work out so well, right?

Clare was apparently on the same page as me. "Sylvia Plath killed herself," she pointed out unhappily. I smirked.

Ms. Dawes, however, paid no mind to Clare's snide remark. Instead, she moved on with the lesson. I turned around to give Clare my best smirk. She narrowed her eyes at me, and that only made me smirk larger. This was definitely going to be fun.

As soon as the bell rang I hopped out of my seat, swinging my backpack over my shoulder. Clare and I reached the door at the same time, and it became clear that neither of us was going to slow down. We bumped right into each other, and that caused me to notice something: Clare smelled really good. But I pushed that thought aside and slipped out the door past her, shaking my head at her as I did so.

"He's just so…," I heard Clare start to say to her friend, but I missed the rest of the sentence in the chaos of the hall. When I was halfway down the hallway I turned around to find Clare watching me leave. I caught her eye, but she blushed, and directed her attention back to the friend. '_Degrassi just got a whole lot more interesting_,' I thought to myself.

XXX

Later that night I was surfing the internet out of sheer boredom on the family computer. As I browsed some social networking site I found Clare, and she happened to be on the instant messenger. '_Worth a shot_,' I thought to myself, and I typed her a message.

'Hey partner,' I started, 'truce?' I didn't have to wait long for a response.

'I was unaware we were at war,' Clare sent back.

'Well, you weren't exactly warm to the idea of us working together earlier,' I pointed out to her. Then I decided to get a little playful. 'Your sarcasm wounded me.'

'I'm sorry about that. I guess I was upset about getting such a bad mark that I may have taken it out on you. Forgive me?' Clare sent back.

'I don't have much of a choice if I want this partnership to work, do I? ;)'

Clare sent back, 'Good. I'm working on my letter now- wanna read it tomorrow before class?'

'Love to,' I told her, then signed off. Well that was definitely progressive. At least we established that we didn't hate each other. And I was extremely curious to read this letter of hers. You could tell a lot about a person by their style of writing, and the things they wrote about, and to be honest, I wanted to know a whole lot more about Clare.

XXX

The next morning Clare ran into English class, and walked right up to me. "Hot off the presses," she said as she slapped a piece of paper down on my desk top. Then she sat down on the desk in front of me, feet on the chair, and looked at me expectantly.

"Good morning to you too," I said sarcastically.

"Please just read it," She said anxiously. Fine with me- I picked it up and started to absorb her words. About two paragraphs in, though, I was a little disappointed. She so obviously had forced these words onto the page; there was no natural flow. You could tell this paper had been as painful to write as it was to read. I could tell Clare was expecting me to give her some kind of feedback, so I grabbed the apple that was sitting on my desk, and took a big bite to buy myself some time. "So," Clare prompted eventually, "What do you think?"

I really didn't want to hurt her feelings, so I stalled. "It's, umm…"

Thankfully, Clare jumped in, and saved me from having to criticize her work. "Awkwardly constructed, filled with hyperbole, and generally sloppy," she finished for me. Wow, a little harsh, but also pretty close to what I had been thinking myself.

"The title's centered," I qualified, trying to make her feel better.

Clare let out an exasperated sigh. "Dawes is right," she said, her eyebrows coming together in frustration. "I have writers block."

I had a solution for that, but I was pretty sure Clare wasn't going to go for it. I decided to suggest it anyway. "So, don't hand it in," I challenged her.

"And what?" Clare said, not catching on. "Tell her the dog ate my homework?" She raised her eyebrow at me.

Clearly I was going to have to spell this out for her, "Or you could…take off."

She was taken aback a bit, I could tell. "You mean skip?" She asked incredulously.

"If you wanna get official," I told her, leaning back into my seat. She wasn't going to go for it; I would bet my life on it.

She did surprise me by actually considering it, though. "It would give me time to write a way better assignment," she reasoned with herself. Just then the bell rang.

"Decision time," I declared happily. She looked me in the eye, and an adorable smile slid across her face. It made me notice that Clare was a pretty girl, beautiful even. "Stay or go?" I asked her.

Clare started to pack up her stuff, and head for the door. Well knock me over with a feather; Clare Edwards was going to skip class. I was flabbergasted, and pretty impressed. I pivoted in my seat to watch her go, but she stopped in the doorway. "Well," She raised her eyebrows at me again, "You coming?" There was a daring gleam in her eye as she stood there, leaning on the doorframe. I had to say, she was very intriguing. There was no way I could say no to that kind of dare. Besides, I didn't want to say no to Clare. I shrugged, grabbed my stuff, and we raced out the side door of the school together.

**I will definitely have the second part of this episode up soon- probably tomorrow. Thanks for reading! =)**


	2. Just Friends?

**I must apologize to all my readers about yesterday's chapter. While it wasn't bad, it wasn't my best, either. Today, I am in my groove again, so I hope this chapter is better. =)**

**And here is the second part of Better off Alone- Part 1! Thank you to everyone who is reading it; you guys are great. Enjoy! :**

I lead Clare across the basketball court behind the school to the spot where I had earlier parked Morty. 

"Where exactly are we going?" Clare asked nervously, looking over her shoulder every few seconds like an escaped convict.

I chuckled at her. "Calm down, will you? Nobody is going to catch us." Then I gestured at Morty. "Miss Edwards, your golden carriage awaits," I mocked a British accent.

Clare skeptically eyed Morty. "Um, is that a hearse?"

"Why yes it is, thanks for noticing," I told her sarcastically. "Morty this is Clare, Clare meet Morty. And if you don't make friends with him, and get in soon, we actually might get caught," I threatened her lightly, throwing in a smirk for good measure.

Clare glanced over her shoulder one more time before walking up to Morty, patting his hood, and then climbing in. I paused for a moment, still shocked that Clare was going through with this. I felt kind of evil for convincing such a good girl to skip school. "Are we doing this thing, or not?" Clare asked, leaning out the window. She raised her eyebrows at me impatiently.

"But, of course," I told her, and hopped into the driver's seat. "Where to?" I asked as I started Morty up.

"Anywhere but here," Clare said, a devilish smile on her face.

We drove around in comfortable silence for a few minutes. I leisurely navigated, having no real destination in mind. Finally Clare found a place that pleased her: a little café across the street from one of the various parks in town. I parallel parked Morty, showing off a little. Parallel parking isn't an easy feat when you're not driving a hearse that's a million feet long. Not that I expected Clare to be impressed, but perhaps I hoped she might be. Strange. I hadn't tried to impress anybody, male or female, since Julia died.

I hopped out of the driver's side, and went to open the door for Clare. "I'm impressed," she said, shocked, "I thought chivalry was dead."

"Chivalry is not dead; it's just hiding from all the assholes in the world," I joked, smiling down at Clare.

"Punny," Clare remarked, laughing. Hearing the sound made me want to join in, which was, again, strange. Clare made me feel…lighter. I really liked the feeling, and I was beginning to really like Clare. '_Don't get ahead of yourself_,' I reminded myself mentally. The only problem was it was hard to stay distant and cautious when Clare's personality was so inviting. There was just something different, special, about this girl. I wanted to be her friend- stranger still. Since Julia died I had spent the last year cutting off every last relationship I had, remaining cold and distant. But the need for solitude seemed silly while I was standing next to Clare.

I held open the door to the coffee shop as well, letting Clare go in ahead of me. I was tempted to buy her coffee for her, but I decided I didn't want to come on to strong. Once we both had our coffee, we found a bench outside, and settled down to enjoy the nice day.

"Thank you," Clare said, her eyes closed, soaking in the sun. "I've been stressed a lot lately, and this was just what I needed."

"You needed to skip class?" I asked incredulously, seriously doubting that.

"No," she said, defensive, "I needed to relax."

I nodded. This was relaxing, sitting here with Clare. We were just enjoying each other's company, and no conversation needed to be made; it was just comfortable.

That was, until Clare suggested we get down to business, "You know the assignment we got back yesterday?" she asked me.

"Yeah…" I said, wondering where this was going.

"I want to read yours." She said authoritatively. "And I want you to read mine." She bent down, rifled through her bag, and handed me her paper with a big, red 'C' on the top.

"I thought you wanted to relax," I reminded her, but reached into my backpack for the paper anyway.

"I did relax," she insisted, "but now, I'm done." I shook my head at her, but handed her my paper, and took hers. I started to read. The paper, although not bad, was pretty dull. I could see what Ms. Dawes had meant by impersonal; there was too much structure, and not enough Clare in the paper. Also, there really wasn't much of a point of view.

Suddenly, I thought of something that made me almost laugh out loud. "Wow. This is a first," I started sarcastically, "skipping school to do work." I had skipped school for lots of interesting reasons, but to work on a paper was never one of them.

Clare ignored my remark. "I don't understand how you got an 'A', and I got a 'C'," she said, finishing my paper. Ouch. I felt like that could have been offensive, but Clare just looked so dismal, I decided she didn't mean I wasn't good; she was just used to doing better.

"Simple," I joked with her, trying to make her feel better, "I'm dating Ms. Dawes."

She gave me a pained look, obviously looking for a real explanation. "Look," I started, "you're a good writer, but anyone could have penned this piece. There's no point of view," I repeated the sentiment I had thought to myself earlier.

Clare obviously got easily defensive about her writing easily. "I wrote about gun control," She declared, "I say it's good."

I gave her a skeptical look; she thought that was a point of view? "Wow," I said sarcastically, raising my eyebrows at her, "controversial."

"Okay, fine," Clare said, obviously bothered by my mocking. "What am I supposed to write about?" She cocked her head at me, waiting expectantly.

I considered that for a moment; I wanted to give her good advice, really help her. What made a good paper? Ah, I had it, "Something that pisses you off," I told her.

"Besides my English partner?" She shot at me, giving me a mischievous look.

"Ouch," I replied flirtatiously. Then I grew serious, and looked her straight in the eye. "If you could change one thing in the world, what would it be?" I asked her, unremittingly. If she had writers block, questions usually helped to move your writing along. I was also very curious about the answer, hoping it would give me a small glance in her psyche.

Clare considered it only for a moment, "My mom and dad." The response was so certain, and came so quickly, it made me think that it had been on her mind a lot lately. "They're not exactly getting along," she continued. I wondered if that had been the cause of all her stress lately.

"So write about that," I suggested helpfully.

Clare didn't even consider expressing her worry about her parents on paper. "I can't," she sounded surprised that I would even suggest it. "It's personal." Her eyebrows came together in frustration again.

I smirked at her; Ms. Dawes wanted her to get more personal, so I didn't really see the problem. "You care too much about what people think," I accused.

"That is not true," Clare replied, never missing a beat. This girl was defensive.

However, I didn't believe her. And you know what they say, actions speak louder than words. "Then prove it," I challenged Clare. She had headed my last challenge well, and usually people didn't take to kindly to them. I wanted to see if that had been a onetime deal, or if Clare really was different. I looked her right in the eye, daring her with my words and my eyes, "Scream- at the top of your lungs."

Clare looked away from me and glanced around, surveying the amount of people nearby. She then looked back at me as if to ask if I really wanted her to do this. I raised my eyebrows, prompting her. '_Any day now_,' I thought to myself. She graced me with a smirk of her own before turning away from me, smoothing her dress, and then she opened her mouth. A look of shock crossed my face; she was really going to do it? Instead of a bloodcurdling cry, though, the most pitiful excuse for a scream escaped her mouth. I was a little disappointed- I really thought she was going to do it.

I scoffed at her. "That's the best you could do?" I asked, seriously doubting that. I rolled my eyes and looked away. Just as I was scolding myself for putting too much faith in someone I hardly knew, Clare stood up. I looked at her, wondering what she was doing. She straightened her dress again, and turned to look at me defiantly, a smug smile on her face. I looked back in confusion and indignant. This outta be good.

And then she screamed, and I mean she really screamed. My face slipped into a mask that was a split between impressed and dumbfounded. The scream went on for a good ten seconds; obviously Clare hadn't let loose in a while, and my surprised expression deepened. I guess I hadn't put too much faith in Clare- she really was different.

I nodded my head, and smiled at some innocent bystanders. Comically, a dog started barking in the distance- Clare had some lung power. I was shocked no one had keeled over from a heart attack. They were, however, hastily leaving the area, shooting annoyed, worried glances at the crazy, screaming girl. I smiled to myself. I couldn't believe Clare had done that. It was official- this girl was definitely worth befriending.

"Okay," she said, turning to me, "your turn."

I gave her a wicked smile. "Yeah," I said, standing as well, "not my style."

"What!" She was shocked that I had made her do something that even I wouldn't attempt. She charged at me, obviously not angry, but feigning it. As she continued coming at me she kept asserting that I had to do it, while I was defending myself.

Then I cornered myself, walking right into a telephone pole. Clare walked right into me, our eyes locked. Her words cut off as we got close enough that I could faintly feel her breath wash across my face. Up close, Clare smelled even more delicious. I had grabbed her small wrists as she got closer, and we just stood there for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. I decided that she was definitely beautiful, not just pretty.

In that moment it was like everything changed. Clare and I just…connected. It would have been easy, natural even, to lean in and plant a soft kiss on her lips. But that was crazy, we hardly knew each other. It was just that Clare made me feel good, genuinely good, for the first time in a long time.

Then with a nervous giggle Clare tugged a little, trying to pull out of my grip. I let go, holding up my hands in surrender, and as an apology. My face turned apologetic as well. Clare walked back to the bench, and turned around looking me in the eye again. I gave her a genuine, embarrassed, small smile; it had been a while since I had smiled at anyone so genuinely and even longer since I had felt embarrassment of any kind. I looked away. This was so weird and new for me, yet familiar at the same time.

Clare sat down on the bench, and I kept my back pressed against the telephone pole. "Well," I began cautiously, "that was interesting."

Clare nodded, and our eyes met again. She gave me a timid smile, and I returned the favor with one of my own. When I looked away my eyes landed on my backpack.

"Oh, shit!" I slipped out.

Clare stood up, alarmed. "What is it?" she asked.

I smacked my palm against my head, "School." I didn't have to say anything else. Clare gave one frantic look down at her watch, and the grabbed her bag. I reached for mine, too, and together we ran for Morty. "What time is it?" I asked her, feeling worse for suggesting she skip English. I was hoping to get her back in time for 3rd period so she was only skipping one class.

"Middle of third," Clare said nervously. Her tone only made me feel worse.

"I'm sorry," I said earnestly.

"Don't be," Clare said, shocked at my apology. "I'm really glad I did that. It was fun." In my peripheral vision I saw her glance up at me through her eyelashes, blushing a bit.

I glanced back for a second, and then redirected my attention to the road. "I had fun, too," I admitted, smiling to myself.

"We should have fun together again sometime," Clare suggested tentatively. I smiled as I pulled into the school's parking lot. I quickly slipped into a space, and put Morty in park, turning him off.

"I'd really like that…partner," I turned to wink at her. "Now, we have to sneak into school unnoticed. Are you ready for this?"

"I am so ready," Clare said back, determined. Was it just me, or did Clare seem to be talking about something completely different than sneaking back into school? This thought made the strangest event of the morning happen- my heart skipped a beat. Awe, man, I was in trouble.

XXX

Later that night, I was bored, and trying to keep my mind off of this morning's excitement. It was just so weird, so out of character for me, that I was kind of scared to get myself in any deeper. Did this mean I was over Julia? The thought made my stomach churn, answering my question with a resounding 'no'. However, when I thought of Clare I wanted nothing more than to see her again right this very moment.

I logged on to the computer, bringing up the same social networking site that Clare and I had talked on earlier. Thankfully she was online.

'More public embarrassment tonight?' I typed to her.

'Is that an invitation?' was Clare's quick reply.

I smiled to myself, and decided to not admit anything at the moment. 'Do you want it to be?' I asked her, hoping for a yes so bad that I hurt. What was happening to me?

I had to wait a bit longer for Clare's response this time. 'Love to hang- but I can't.'

The disappointment was stronger than I expected it to be. Two things were for sure- I was in for a wild ride, but everyday Clare was proving to be worth it.


	3. Divine Intervention

**Hello everyone. How's life? Good, I hope! **

**I am going to be so sad when I'm done writing these, so hopefully the new shows will provide me with some good writing material. Seriously, writing these Eli POV's have taken over my life. Hah. So, I hope you're enjoying them, good people! I know I am. =)**

**Without further delay: Better off Alone- Part 2; first half. Enjoy! :**

In my entire life I had never been awake before my alarm sounded, but now I found myself awake five minutes prior to the time set on my alarm. Sitting up in bed I looked around my room, dazed. I was amazed that I didn't have to fight with myself to get up and out of bed. For the first time in a year I was excited to go to school. It didn't take a psychologist to figure out why: I wanted to see Clare.

I was still in awe that so much had changed so drastically in the little amount of time that it did. I mean, of course I wasn't in love with Clare, and I certainly wasn't stupid enough to think that this made me a cured man, but it was obviously a step in the right direction. Being friends with Clare had already made me happier- happier than I had felt in a year, and that had to count for something. So, I got ready for school with a much brighter outlook on being up this early than normal.

Apparently, my change in behavior was noticeable, because my mom eyed me funny as I breezed into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Eli," she said cautiously, looking at me as if I were a time bomb set to explode any minute.

'_This could be fun_,' I thought to myself. Out loud, I said, "Good morning, mom," and shot her the kind of smile that she hadn't seen light up my face in a long time. It worked; she was speechless, and stared at me with a flabbergasted look plastered on, her mouth hanging open just slightly. 

"You seem to be in a…good mood," she remarked hesitantly.

"I am," I replied, matter-of-factly. My mom just nodded, still eyeing me tentatively as I packed my lunch. Before leaving I walked up to my mom and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Bye," I said, waving as I walked out of the house.

The last view I saw before I shut the front door behind me was a tiny, surprised smile on my mom's face. It felt good to make her happy; give her hope that I wouldn't be mourning Julia forever.

When I got to school I headed straight for my locker knowing I would find Clare at her own. Coincidentally our lockers were right next to each other. I reached our lockers just as she was closing hers and about to head to class. I yelled out to her, not wanting her to leave. "Missed you last night- was Twilight on TV?" I joked.

I was certainly not prepared for the response I got. "She thinks she's protecting me by lying," Clare started, the words flowing swiftly, "but she's just making it worse." Clare said this rant while still walking away from me. I caught up with her a grabbed her arm to get her attention. She spun to face me as soon as I touched her. The look on her face was heart breaking- she was just so worried.

I really wanted to understand, and to help, Clare, but I would need some clarification first. "Stop," I told her gently, "Rewind, and play."

Clare took a deep breath. "According to my mom," she began, "everything is fine between her and my dad, but anyone can see that it's not."

Parent drama was always a sticky situation. My parents were, amazingly, still happy and in love, so I had no personal experience, but I knew lots of kids that had to deal with that kind of thing. Parents fighting generally leads to one thing: "Do you think they're getting divorced?" I asked her.

Clare started freaking out even more, and I felt really bad for bringing it up. "Divorced!" She asked frantically, "My parents would never get divorced. My mom's just sad because my dad's always in a bad mood." It was probably a bad time to notice it, but Clare looked especially lovely. Her bangs were falling over her worried, ice-blue eyes. I wanted to reach over and brush them out of her face. '_Focus, Eli, Clare needs your advice_,' I reprimanded myself. I wasn't usually this distracted; Clare did weird things to me.

"Well, have you told them how you feel?" I asked her, trying to help her work things out. Talking usually helped in any situation; that is if the other party is willing to listen.

"I've been trying," she admitted glumly, "but they don't wanna talk." No wonder Clare had been so stressed lately.

It felt nice to know that Clare trusted me enough to tell me all this. Two days ago we weren't even friends, but now I was happy that we were. I would have to thank Ms. Dawes later or throwing us together as English partners. '_English…_,' I thought to myself, a stroke of brilliance hitting me. "You could write about how you're feeling in that letter for English class, kill two birds with one stone!" I offered her. It seemed like a helpful outlet for Clare's feelings.

She considered it for a moment, the gleam in her eye growing brighter as she warmed to the idea. "That's actually a really good idea," Clare asserted, smiling. I smiled back, knowing I was responsible for momentarily wiping the worry off her face. Clare had a gorgeous smile. Gosh, I was turning into such a sap.

Then, Clare unexpectedly stepped forward and threw her arms around my neck in a hug. I paused for a moment, shocked, and then let my hands slide around her waist. "Thanks, Eli," she said in my ear, her breath tickling my neck. "You're the best," she exclaimed, pulling away and starting down the hall. I stood there watching her go; I could still feel where Clare's arms had been locked around my neck a few seconds earlier.

"Move, Bat Boy," some student said, angry that I was standing in the middle of the hall. I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

"Original," I shot back sarcastically at the kid, smirking at him before heading off the class. Not everyone could be as sweet as Clare- that much was evident.

The rest of the morning passed by, uneventful. In English, Clare barely paid attention to the sub we had, scribbling furiously on scrap pieces of paper. I figured she was writing a draft of the letter, and I smiled to myself, glad that I helped her.

Then at lunch Clare ran up to me. "Want to eat together?" she asked hopefully.

"Well, I mean, if I don't get any better offers…" I joked with her. "Of course I would enjoy eating lunch with you." Clare smiled and led me over to an empty table.

"I really wanted to thank you again," Clare said as we sat down across from each other, much more serene than she was this morning. "I've been working on that letter all morning, and it's really taken a load off my chest. Getting all that out of my mind and on to paper was really cathartic and I have you to thank for it." She met my gaze before blushing, and looking away.

"You do seem less stressed," I noted, "and no thanks necessary. I'm just pleased I could help." I watched her blush deeper and unpack her lunch. "If you ever want to talk," I offered her, "I'll listen."

"I've noticed that," Clare said, chuckling. "I don't know why it is, but you're the only one I feel comfortable talking about my parents to. Which is weird, right? I mean, we barely know each other, but you're the only one listening; asking me how I feel. Ali is too caught up in her own life to notice, my mom insists on lying to me, and my dad is never home. It's amazing you know? Like you were put in my life at exactly the right time- God just knew I needed a friend like you."

I almost did a spit take. I knew the girl was religious, I had gathered as much from listening around, not to mention the purity ring and the cross necklace were dead giveaways, but what she just said was comical. As if there was some higher being up there assigning us friends as life went on- yeah right. "Erm, right," I coughed to mask my amusement.

"You know the listening thing is a two way street," Clare said, eyeing me suspiciously. "So, tell me something about you."

A million things came to mind. All those things, however, probably would have scared Clare off, and the religion thing aside, scaring her away was the last thing I wanted to do. So, I sifted through the faucets of my life that made me, well, me. I decided that, since she had brought it up, I might as well be honest about the whole religion thing. "For one thing," I started gently, "I'm an atheist."

Clare just nodded, taking it in stride. "Yeah, you didn't really seem religious," Clare said, laughing at the thought of me being a religious person. "I respect that, though," Clare said honestly, "as long as you can respect my beliefs." She shot one of her soul-warming smiles at me, and I melted a little. She was just such a sweet, caring girl, and nothing at all like Julia. It was just so weird, but I realized that I liked Clare better.

"I do," I told her truthfully, staring right into her eyes. "Respect you, that is," I clarified. She just started back, nodding slightly. As she did so, a strand of her hair fell over her eyes. I tentatively, and very slowly, reached across the table to push it aside. I heard Clare's breathing hitch as I tucked it behind her ear. I smiled to myself- after a year off the field, apparently I still had some game.

Just then the bell rang. I looked away from Clare, confused; time seemed to fly by whenever I spent it with Clare. We stood up, said our goodbyes, and walked to our different classes. The rest of the day I couldn't really focus in class; I had better things to think about.

I kept up my distracted behavior all through the evening, barely noticing anything. I couldn't even tell you what I ate for dinner that night; I was just so caught up in the simple bliss of not being miserable all the time.

Just as I was about to crawl into bed to get some decent rest, my cell phone rang. I glanced at the caller I.D. - Clare.

"Miss Edwards, I am shocked that a good girl like yourself would be up so late on a school night," I feigned surprise.

"Eli," Clare started, "It's only eleven 'o' clock."

I could almost see how her eyes would narrow at me. "You can read clocks too? You must be wonder woman!"

"I can, and will, hang up," Clare threatened.

"Sorry," I said, I really hadn't meant to upset her. "I'm just in a really good mood. What do you need?" I asked, not sure why she had called in the first place.

"It's done," Clare said excitedly, "and I have proofread it. Twice. I think it's finally just right."

"Is it safe to assume that you are talking about your letter?" I asked her.

She laughed. "Yes," the way she said it made me feel like 'duh' could have easily been substituted. "Will you read it tomorrow morning?" She asked hopefully.

"Anything you want, partner."

"Thank you," she chirped. "See you in English." I agreed, and hung up, lying back in my bed. When I closed my eyes I wasn't plagued with images of Julia- all I saw were a pair of warm, ice- blue eyes staring back at me. I smiled, and drifted off to sleep.

XXX

The next morning, Clare was nowhere to be found until English. I was sitting at my desk, and she marched right up to me, and handed me her letter. I read through it, and when I was finished, I perched on top of my desk so I could face Clare, who was sitting in her seat. "Wow," I asserted. "How did it feel to write this?" I asked, amazed that the same girl who wrote about gun control being good could come up with something this amazing.

"Good," Clare assured me, "really good. It was everything I wanted to say."

Just then, Ms. Dawes stormed in, and I slipped into my seat. Because there was a sub yesterday, Dawes hadn't yet reprimanded Clare and I for skipping the other day, but we both knew it was coming. Sure enough, that was the first thing Dawes touched on, "Miss Edwards, Mr. Goldsworthy, it's nice of you to join us today. Actually, I'm excited to hear your excuses for skipping last class. Let me guess! Violent food poisoning?" I rolled my eyes a bit. Ms. Dawes definitely had a taste for the dramatic sometimes.

"Actually," Clare told her sheepishly, "We were both working on our assignments."

"Original," Ms. Dawes said, clearly skeptical, "but it's not going to save you from detention." Bummer. Especially for Clare. Although, to be fair, it's not like I forced her to ditch school. I was just the jerk who suggested it in the first place. "Now," Dawes continued, "I want to hear those assignments. Miss Edwards, why don't you go first?"

"Me?" Clare asked timidly. I thought she was over the embarrassment of writing, or reading, something personal. I mean, she did shout in front of tons of strangers, so this should be a piece of cake.

"Yeah," Ms. Dawes told her confidently, "come on. Let's see if the assignment has helped with your writers block." I smiled- It sure had.

Clare walked to the front of the room, and fidgeted with her outfit nervously before looking at me. I gave her a small nod of encouragement, and she started to read. "'We need to talk' is a line that every kid dreads," Clare started, "but you know what's worse- waiting for it. Every minute of every hour of every day. Because I know it's coming- the reason you're fighting all the time. And I know I won't like the answer, but whatever you tell me can't be worse than the waiting. So, please, don't make me wait any longer…" She started to lose it; caught up in the raw emotion she had put into the letter. I was proud of her though, but I wasn't the one who mattered. Her mom needed to hear the letter, and I thought of one way I could arrange for that to happen…

"I'm sorry," Clare said to the class, taking a few deep breaths, "there's more."

Ms. Dawes cut her off. "That's alright. It's a good start. What say you, Eli?"

I didn't have to think very long about what I had to say, "I think it deserves a larger audience," I told Ms. Dawes, a devilish smile on my face, "like at the student showcase."

Ms. Dawes was immediately on board. "That's and excellent idea," she said barely above a whisper, "Clare?"

Clare looked sick to her stomach. '_Whoops_,' I thought to myself. Oh, well, too late to take it back now. And Dawes seemed to adore the idea. "Well, it's kind of personal," Clare said looking right at me, and not Dawes. I raised my eyebrows, flashing Clare my devilish smile as well. That was kind of the point, now wasn't it?

Dawes was thinking the same thing. "But all great art is personal," she assured Clare, "and this is head and shoulders above your last work. I am signing you up after class!"

Clare came charging back to her desk; she was not happy. "My mom's going to be at the showcase," Clare whispered angrily at me before sitting down in her seat.

I turned in my seat to look Clare in the eye. "Which means she'll be forced to listen to you," I pointed out to her. I was only trying to help her out. "Isn't this what you wanted?" But the look on her face clearly showed Clare didn't know what she wanted right now.

Well, whether Clare wanted to do it or not, I had gotten her into it, which meant that I would be there to support her no matter what. I mean, what are friends for anyway?

**Sorry this update took so long, my friends. I had a hectic past couple days, and was only able to write a little bit here and there. I hope you found this worth the wait, though. The last part of Better off Alone- Part 2 shall be up soon. Thanks again for reading. =)**


	4. Going Further

**I don't own Degrassi. I am pretty pumped for February, though. =)**

**You guys should know that I am writing you the last part of Better off Alone- part 2 before starting in on my homework. I'm a terrible, dedicated person. Hah. Enjoy the last part! :**

Clare wouldn't speak to me at lunch; she was still pretty upset about me nominating her for the student showcase. Which was fine with me- it was for her own good, and she would thank me after her mother heard the letter.

I looked across the lunchroom to see Clare sitting with her friend, Ali, shooting me daggers with her eyes. So, maybe she wouldn't thank me later, but it would still do her some good.

After lunch I found Clare by our lockers. "I'm mad at you," she said to me before I had the chance to open my mouth and explain myself.

"Gee, I really hadn't noticed," I let sarcasm drip heavily from my words, "You're doing such a good job of hiding it." Clare rolled her eyes, and started to walk away. I easily caught up with her. "I wouldn't have made the suggestion to Dawes if I didn't think this is what you needed."

"You don't know me!" Clare turned abruptly to face me. "So how could you possibly know what I need?" She sounded more frustrated than angry at this point.

"Because I do know you, Clare," I pointed out, narrowing my eyes at her. "Maybe not well, but I know you enough to see that this thing with your parents is eating you alive. It's what's making you so stressed, and you're not going to be able to relax until they tell you what's really going on. I know that your family is the most important thing in the world to you. Do you know how I know this, Clare? Because I've been listening to you. And, furthermore, you have been talking to me; letting me in."

She stood there, speechless. I took her surprised silence as an affirmation of everything I just said. After Clare didn't say anything for a minute, just stood there staring at me, I shook my head at her and walked away from her to go to my next class. I was kind of hurt that Clare thought we didn't know each other. I had thought she was thinking the same things about me as I was her; that this was possibly headed in a direction stronger than friendship. At least it had seemed that way whenever we were together. It was a crushing feeling to find that wasn't true.

The rest of the day I argued with myself on whether or not I should even show up at the student showcase the next morning, but eventually decided that I was the one who had gotten Clare into it, so I should at least be there. It wasn't like just because our relationship wasn't headed in the direction I thought it was that I didn't want to be her friend. That was just silly.

So, I woke up early Saturday morning, and pulled into Degrassi's parking lot around nine, parking Morty. I walked to the front steps and waited outside for Clare to arrive. A few minutes later, her mother and she walked up to the building. Clare saw me, and stopped in her tracks, surprised to find me there. I heard her whisper to her mom to go in without her, and then she turned to me. "What are you doing here?" She asked- the surprise in her voice evident.

"I got you into this mess, did I not?" I pointed out. "Did you really think I would let you go through it without me by your side?"

After a moment, a wide smile spread across Clare's face, lighting it up. "I'm sorry about yesterday," she said, ashamed. "Everything you said was true, and I think I was taking the stress of my situation out on you. I do realize that all you wanted to do was help, though. I guess I was just surprised that you were listening as well as you were." She passed for a moment, blushing. "Thank you…for showing up, I mean. It means a lot to me."

I smiled down at her, happy that she wasn't upset with me after all. "I wouldn't miss it for the world," I told her, blushing a tad myself.

We walked in together, and took our place 'backstage', which was really just outside the gym. I saw Clare's mom wave at her, and Clare turned away nervously. Obviously, she needed a pep talk, and I was prepared to give it to her. "Okay," I started trying to calm her down, "you've wanted to talk to your mom, and this is your chance." Clearly she had to realize this was a good thing.

But she walked away from the gym door, having second thoughts. "Maybe I am a worry wart. Maybe there's nothing wrong at home." Was she seriously trying to tell herself there was nothing wrong? She had apparently reached a state of delusion.

"Or," I suggested delicately, "maybe you're scared."

"Of what?" She shot back defensively.

"Of finding out what's really going on with your parents." I could see it in her eyes that I had hit a nerve- she was terrified, but she seemed insistent upon denying it.

"That's not true," she said quietly, but evasively.

"Then prove it," I said, raising my eyebrows at her. Lately it seemed that the only way to get Clare to do something was to challenge her. "Dawes assigned us as English partners because she thought you needed to take risks," I reminded her.

"With my writing," Clare pointed out defensively, "not my life! This isn't me shouting in a park in front of a bunch of strangers. This is my family! It's personal." Clearly, Clare was winning this argument; she was talking herself out of reading very easily, and I was running out of things to say. As the student council president, Sav, announced that Clare was reading next, she started to back away down the hall. I turned to look at her, maybe make a last ditch attempt at getting her to go through with this, but before I could open my mouth she shook her head at me. I stood there, helpless, as she ran down the hall.

Sav covered Clare's absence well, announcing the next student, and then walking out to me. "Where did she go?" He asked me.

"Home, I'm assuming," I told him snottily. "Speaking of which, do you know her address?" I asked him. I wasn't going to wait till Monday to talk to Clare about this. In fact, the sooner the better, and Sav was Ali's older brother, so if there was anyone here that would know where she lived, it would be him.

Sav seemed caught off guard, but told me her would text Ali for the address. Nice guy. I would have to find a way to thank him later.

After Ali texted him back, and the showcase was all over, Sav wrote the address on a piece of paper, and handed it to me. "Here you go, man. Is she okay?"

"She will be…I hope," I told him. "Thanks for this. I owe you one."

Sav just shook his head, "Not really. It was no problem at all." I just smiled at him, and took off. I had noticed that Clare's mom left as soon as she realized Clare had disappeared as well. I hope they had a chance to talk as well.

I easily found the address Sav had given me. On the ride there I focused on what I wanted to say- I needed to apologize for interfering. Clearly I had pushed Clare too far, and she wasn't ready to talk about this thing with her parents.

I parked Morty, and was about to go know on the door when Clare came out. Her timing was impeccable. She quietly shut the door, and then turned; spotting me leaning casually against Morty- like this was not out of the ordinary for me to be there.

For the second time that day I had stunned her by showing up in unexpected places. "What are you doing here?" She asked, not even bothering to subdue the astonishment in her voice. Déjà vu washed over me.

"Hi Eli, how are you," I sarcastically pointed out her lack of greeting, "Fine Clare, thanks for asking."

She crossed her arms over her chest, but I could tell she wasn't upset anymore. She looked like a weight had been lifted right off her chest. "Hi," she shot back playfully.

I smiled, but narrowed my eyes at her. She was unwavering, so I decided I had better start things off. "Look, if you don't want to tell your mom how you're feeling, I respect that."

Clare walked down her front steps, and came closer to me. "Too late," she told me smugly.

I paused, confused. "You read her the letter?" I asked skeptically.

"And," Clare conceded, "she wants to know what's wrong as much as I do. She and my dad are talking right now."

No wonder Clare seemed so much more relaxed. A smug smile slipped onto my face when I realized that reading her mom the letter had been what Clare needed all along. "So, what you're saying," I pointed out, "is my plan worked." I placed my hand over my heart, feigning surprise.

Clare rolled her eyes, but smiled at me. "Could you be more smug?" she asked me.

"Absolutely!" I shot back playfully. Clare laughed lightly; I loved making her laugh. The sound was amazing. Clare had given me so much in the past few days, and she didn't even know it. I wanted to give her something in return…

I reached for the headphones I always wore around my neck, and handed them to her. "Here," I told her, "You may want to borrow these. They're noise cancellation, so they might come in handy if things get worse with your folks. Or…if you need to ignore an English partner," I added the last part jokingly. Clare chuckled, and looked away for a moment.

"Thanks," she said, meeting my eye again.

Now for the apology; I really did owe her one. "And," I started, "I'm sorry for interfering. I promise not to do it again."

I opened Morty's door, about to climb back in. Clare walked up to me, and placed her hand on top of mine. It was a small gesture, but a deliberate one. It made my heart beat out and irregular pattern. Maybe we were still thinking the same thing about the direction of our relationship.

"You can interfere every once in a while," she said, smiling at me, "but I'm still going to do whatever I want," she qualified.

I glanced down at her hand placed on top of mine. "I wouldn't expect anything less," I told her honestly, looking up to meet her gaze. She took her hand away, and I slipped into my car. Before I drove away, though, I looked up to see Clare smiling down at me. I smiled back, my heart soaring.

This was going to be a good year, I could feel it.

**Thanks again for reading. That concluded Better off Alone- parts 1 and 2. Please review, and let me know what I can do to make these better. What do you like, and what do you wish I had done differently? **

**Also, do you guys want me to stick to the episodes that pertain** **specifically to EClare, or would you be interested in Eli's POV with the Fitz storyline as well? **


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